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strong connection to him that she couldn’t stand the thought of him
getting hurt, much less dying. It must be Stockholm syndrome. Or
maybe it was because he had given her the first honest-to-goodness,
real live, no-double-A-batteries-involved orgasm she’d ever had.
Whether she turned out to be Patty Hearst or just some desperate girl,
she didn’t want Beck’s blood staining the arena.
“Yes, miss,” Rhys answered, taking a seat next to his wife. “Your
tournament is the last of the day. It is also the largest. The rest of
these females are just simple mates. You are very rare.”
Meg let out a sigh of frustration. The whole thing was terribly
confusing to her. She looked to the vampire. He didn’t seem to have a
problem telling her the painful truth. “Why? Why do all these men
want me?”
His sunglasses receded, and he looked her in the eyes. His green
eyes sparkled in the shade. “The vamps or the Fae?”
“Both.”
His manner took on a distinctly academic tone. “The Fae are
interested in you as a bondmate. Certain Fae have psychic abilities
that are greatly enhanced in the presence of a female whose brain is
tuned to theirs. In Beck’s case, it’s a little more urgent. Beck was born
with a symbiotic twin, Cian. Think of them as halves of a whole.
Beck is the practical half. He is the warrior. Cian is the intellectual half. When symbiotic twins turn twenty-five years old, a bondmate is
found for them, if they aren’t already contracted. The female forms a
triad with the males. She bridges their minds through hers, and they
are able to function together. It makes all three stronger. When Beck’s
36
Sophie Oak
uncle took over Tir na nÒg, he closed the plane. He did this for
several reasons, but no doubt one was to cut off his nephews from a
bondmate. They have been forced to look elsewhere.”
